Unexpected Occurrences
by Raven Banesidhe
Summary: Sherlock is back, but so is Moriarty! Moriarty and his faithful sniper stumble across a not-so-abandoned apartment building and now have two very strange siblings working for them. Rated T just to be safe, OC x2, will have MorMor, JohnLock, and possibly some others. I hope you'll like it!
1. Chapter 1

It had been precisely three years and two days since Sherlock Holmes had faked his death.

It had been two incredibly long days since the world found out that the brilliant detective was, in fact, both alive and genuine.

Now, Jim Moriarty hadn't exactly been sitting and twiddling his thumbs during this time, oh no. Heaven forbid it! He had, in fact, been incredibly busy with killing people, staying dead, and instilling fear into the hearts of the common-folk. Well, there had also been a great deal of snogging between the only consulting criminal in the world and his dearest sniper, but that was beside the point. Sebastian had had enough of Jim sulking about, and so they had moved around a bit in order to find a new base to call home. After driving around in a surveillance van full of knives, guns, and "goodies," as Jim called them, the pair finally found a suitable empty apartment complex deep inside the abandoned districts of London. Unfortunately for them, the building wasn't as abandoned as they imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

James Moriarty strolled into the boarded up apartment building as if it was a five-star hotel. Sebastian suspected that if Jim were to stop pretending to be so suave, he would be quite appalled by the state of the complex. Sebastian glanced around the complex, taking in the rafters hanging from the ceiling. Once upon a time, this place had been a theatre, only to be renovated into a high-end apartment building. There had been a fire a few years ago, and the building was left uninhabited and in a state of disrepair. As Sebastian trailed behind his boss, Jim stopped walking suddenly. Caught unawares, Sebastian quickly stepped back so as not to bump into him. "Sebby" had learned his lesson the last time and has the scars to prove it.

"Do you hear that, dear?" Jim murmured, grinning. "It appears we are not alone. Recent track marks of boots over there," he points to a collection of old crates, "and two rucksacks quite near to us. It looks as if we have two runaways here."

"Come on then," called Sebastian gruffly. "Let's see you. Hands where I can see them"

Silence, save for the slightest whisper of paper. A dirty head poked out from behind one of the crates.

"Who are you?" a thin voice called out. The voice appeared to belong to an adolescent girl. "Why are you here? Nobody stays here! People say it's cursed. Many have died here. You ought to leave."

Jim smirked. "Well, little girl, I'll have you know that however many people died here," he paused for effect.

"I've killed dozens more."

A shape crawled out from behind the crates. "Really?" the girl seemed enthralled. "I've only killed two people so far. I'm not very good at it. My brother is much better at it. He and I are twins, you know. He's around somewhere. You have any food?"

Sebastian blinked. This was not what they were expecting. He glanced sideways at Jim, who was looking at the girl with a thoughtful expression on his shrewd face. Jim spoke up, his eyes cool and calculating. "You say you've killed people… Would you be willing to kill more in exchange for food and protection?"

A boy's voice came from the rafters:

"Why not? Not like Claudia and I have anything better to do." A figure shimmied down a few assorted drapes that remained in the apartment lobby. "My name's Connor and this is Claudia. We're twins, but you already knew that. We can shoot guns but we like knives better. Claudia can cook, I can forge signatures, and we're both fairly decent thieves."

Sebastian and Jim looked at each other. Yes, this could work nicely.


	3. Chapter 3

"I still don't bloody believe it! I saw you jump! I saw you die! And now you tell me it was all for nothing?! HE's STILL ALIVE, YOU GIT!"

Sherlock shook his head as John stormed about 221B, which had stayed almost exactly the same for three years.

"I will say it again, as I have 27 times before: I had no other choice, because all of my friends would have been killed otherwise. You, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade… All of you would have been killed."

John blinked. "Your friends would have been killed? You said you didn't have any- now hang on a tic! How the hell is this bastard still alive?! You may have jumped off a building, but he shot himself. HE SHOT HIMSELF IN THE BLOODY HEAD!"

"It appears that when Jim Moriarty faked his death, he had a professional-looking prop gun on hand. I wonder… DID he really act when he was younger? Perhaps he acted on stage. In any case, his prop gun's trigger released the sound of a gunshot, but not any bullets. His plan was quite ingenious, really. Pull the trigger of the gun, and you hear the sound, fooling a great many people if you need to. Now, the blood! The blood was a curious thing, another thing that makes me think our friend has training in theater. As he fell down, Jim had false blood capsules hidden within his hair and behind the collar of his jacket. They were small, small enough to pin under his hair and still make a considerable splash, as it were. Behind his collar were much larger packets of blood to fool everyone. Only the fact of the matter is; the blood was real. The blood wasn't his, of course. Same blood type as Moriarty, I would imagine. When he fell to the ground, the blood capsules erupted in the back of his head.

"Next, there's the matter of the bullet wound! That was simple enough; he just faked a gunshot wound. Again, it's quite easy to do if you have theatre experience. It was probably hidden under a special patch of his hair that had been cut a while ago. Oh, he must have been planning this for ages! As he fell down, it was mussed and disrupted, with some of the hairpiece coming off due to the blood in the process. Pieces of hair would be a likely thing to see at the scene, seeing as a man had just supposedly blew his brains out.

"Now, we have to consider the people who found him. Obviously, some of them were moles. Low level thugs hired to do minor dirty work, such as bringing him to safety and disposing of any evidence. In the meantime, Moriarty had to make sure that he appeared dead. So, what did he do? That clever, clever man! He placed fast-acting poison in the pistol! A small plastic film was probably clinging to the inside of the gun so that he could breathe in the poison! There must have been a cover to the film though… So he had a plastic film over the gun, and pierced it with his canine! He took a deep breath-"

Sherlock did so for effect, grinning madly.

"Then he pulled the trigger as the poison went into his system to release the sound of the gunshot. Oh, BRILLIANT!"

Sherlock whirled around to face John. "Well? I've still got it! What do you think? Isn't this-" Sherlock broke off as he stared at John, who was currently sitting in Sherlock's old chair with his head in his hands. John looked up with tears falling down his face.

"Is this it, then? It's all just back to normal? Or rather, your idea of normal. God knows we have different views on that. So you're just blindly jumping back into action?" John laughed at that, a harsh, jarring bark that made Sherlock step back. "No. Don't you dare back away, Sherlock. You did this. You did all of this, and I swear, if you try to go and hunt Moriarty down without a plan, I will not hesitate to tie you down and keep you in the flat!"

Sherlock blinked at that. "Don't be ridiculous, John. You'd be with me, wouldn't you? I know you miss it. Wouldn't you be there?" Sherlock began to sound hysterical and panicked as he spoke, behaving very much not-Sherlock.

"Don't start the hysterics and the acting to keep me here with you, Sherlock. I'm going out now. Don't come looking for me, and keep your bloody brother away from me. I'm tired of you Holmes brothers and how you keep on ruining my life. Don't wait up."

With that, John stormed out, leaving Sherlock to feel more alone than he ever had before.


End file.
